Free The Christmas Thief by Julie Carobini Page B

today, so I thought I’d stretch my legs a bit. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
    “No worries. You want a ride home?”
    A picture of her car, left next to an abandoned home, flashed through her mind. How awkward was this? “N-no, thanks.” She waved the stick in the air, still forcing that smile. “I’ll be on my way now. Should be home soon.”
    She hurried on to the south, past empty lots and a couple of dark cabins. Two vehicles passed her, one a Jeep and the other a Subaru like hers, both continuing up the mountain until their red tail lights disappeared from sight.
    She ended up in front of a soaring glass and wood home with a fairy tale garden that elicited a gasp from her. Although winter was nearly upon them, the flora surrounding the house flourished with end of fall blooms—including the roses. No doubt the caretaker of this property was waiting until the bitter end to give those roses the deep pruning they would need to bloom like this again.
    Looking down the side of the house, her own cabin appeared in the distance, the twinkling white Christmas lights outlining her roof. She took another look at the elegant home. This was the house directly across from hers? She darted a glance up and down the street. Nothingness surrounded her. Carefully, she padded down the long and narrow side yard until she reached the face of the mountain on which this house hung—and a completely unencumbered view of the cliff on the other side of the canyon and the ocean beyond.
    Her mouth formed the word “wow.” She had specifically told her real estate agent that she wanted to live cliff side near the water, which is likely the reason she’d never seen the houses on this mountain up close. But, wow. The view ... the view was spectacular—even in the dark. She imagined it was ten times more magnificent in daylight.
    Tasha glanced into the owner’s backyard, aware that just a few minutes ago she had been caught snooping at Jim and Helena’s. Oh, but this backyard! Two thickly padded wrought iron lounge chairs on wheels faced the expanse of canyon, cliff, and sea. If she lived here, she would probably recline out on one of those loungers every night—even if she had to bring a wool blanket with her for protection from the elements.
    She pulled her gaze away and found herself staring across the canyon toward her little cabin where something moved near the back door to her home, across the deck. A figure stood under her porch light, and though it was difficult to make out exactly who it was, she knew. It was Marylu. Since her welcome wagon visit, Marylu had called Tasha twice, asking if she could check in on Wolfy for her when she was at work. Finally, Tasha took her up on it. Especially since the days had grown colder and she’d been leaving Wolfy inside more and more. She always left the back door open anyway, so why not? Tasha had wanted to take this little excursion up the hill without anyone noticing, and having Marylu feed her wild beast had given her the excuse she needed to bypass her home after work—and snoop around up here.
    Another figure crossed the deck and stepped over the threshold into her house. Tasha blinked. Marc? She bit her lip, squinting into the dark at his unmistakable, towering figure. What did he want? She sighed. Probably interrogating poor Marylu. Unless, of course, he had some other reason to enter her home ...
    A low and whiny groan came from somewhere nearby. Tasha froze. Instinctively, she whipped out her phone but noticed she didn’t have service. She bit the inside of her lip and hastily slipped the phone back into her pocket. The whine began to build until it morphed from a subtle groan into a fierce yet guarded bark. A dog jumped down from one of the lounge chairs and scrambled toward her, barking its fluffy white head off.
    Courtney!
    Tasha bent and tried to soothe the furious animal. “Ssh, Courtney. It’s okay. Ssh.”
    The prima donna poodle held her ground a moat’s distance